


Humanity

by Cryophase



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: villain redemption arc, writing novella-length justifications for revenant to have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29086824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryophase/pseuds/Cryophase
Summary: Revenant is forced to learn how to interact with people and be happy, and he hates it a lot. Lifeline helps. Maybe Loba tooNow with illustrations. Updates every few days or so
Relationships: Lifeline | Ajay Che/Revenant
Comments: 18
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

“I think you need to sit the next match out.”

“HA! That’s a good one,” he laughed. He grinned with a broken smile, punctuated by so many missing teeth.

“I’m serious O, your heart can’t take it. Yuh need a break.”

“Sorry sis, next game’s in a few days. Would if I _could_ though, pinky swear.”

Ajay sighed. She glanced back down at the diagnostic scan. Why did she even bother taking it? His heart was working too hard and every dose of stim was making it work harder. He needed time to heal and come down. His body desperately needed a break- shame it was attached to his idiot brain. 

“Fine, what do I know?” He’d probably be fine, maybe. Or, he might not, but that was a risk in every Game no matter the health of the participant.

“But hey, thanks for fixing up my legs. Big guy really did a number on them huh?”

She smiled. He was in good spirits, even though they had lost. “Next time you can get him back for it. Just take it easy ‘til then, yuh hear?”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he prattled. He got up and stretched, tottering from leg to leg. She’d replaced the springs and she could tell he noticed the extra bounce.

“Hahaha, WHEW!” he jumped, nearly hitting the ceiling of the med bay. As he came back down, he seemed distracted by something and lost his footing. He slipped and fell onto the hard tile floor.

“I thought I told yuh to take it easy!” she berated. But he was looking at something else.

“Uh, Ajay? I think you got a visitor.”

She followed his gaze to the entrance of the med bay. Someone was standing there, hunched over. She could see only the edges of a red armored shoulder peeking through the doorframe.

“Think he’s here to kill us for losing today?”

“Ah if he wants to be blamin’ someone he should blame himself. Brings the whole squad down with that attitude o’ his. If he really cared about winnin’ he’d focus less on killin’ and more on his team.”

“Oof, she’s got a point amigo.”

He didn’t react to either of them, just continued to loiter menacingly. Was he waiting for them to leave? Octane turned to the medic and whispered, “Sure you don’t want me to just stick around til he’s gone?”

“I can take care of myself,” she answered. “I’ll be alright.” Besides, she wasn’t alone- she had D.O.C. The bot twirled and chirped as though to assure her friend.

“Okay but like, if you need me, scream ok? I’ll be here faster than he can pump out an edgy one-liner.”

She smiled. “Go on, it’ll be fine. I’ll see yuh tomorrow.”

He left reluctantly, wary as he made his way into the hall. He was prepared for the murderbot to up and attack him as soon as he left, but he merely stood there and glared at him.

"Woof, scary,” Octane joked. “I’ll see you later Che.”

She could hear the clink of his footsteps get quieter and quieter until they were gone. She’d be lying to herself if she said it didn’t make her feel a bit nervous. The damn machine was still standing there, and it was obvious it was for her alone.

“You know, the longer yuh stand there the harder it’s gonna be to do whatever it is you’re wantin’ to do.”

Slowly a figure stepped into the door frame. He had to lean down just to get under it. “You’re a medic, right.”

“Mm, and you’re a slow one, right?”

If he could scowl, she reckoned he would have. He didn’t like being talked back at. He let her know as much with a gruff snarl, followed by a step forward. She stepped back, instinct taking over. His stature was intimidating, and she couldn’t help but react. She regretted it, she shouldn’t be so scared of this jackass.

But he slowed his approach, and only grabbed his own wrist, turning a limp hand over in his other one before letting it fall to his side.

“I need this fixed,” he said simply. 

Ajay was surprised. She didn’t know exactly how, but whenever he had seemed damaged before, he simply reappeared later looking brand new. She didn’t think he needed assistance like the other Legends did. So why now?

“There’s a nice way to ask,” she answered, raising her brows and fiddling with D.O.C.

He growled. He stepped forward again and closed the distance between them until he was towering over her, brilliant yellow eyes glaring down and full of bloodlust.

“Fix it, or I’ll kill you,” his good hand stiffened into a blade. He raised it to her neck and brought his face uncomfortably close to hers. Ajay could see the lenses of his eyes, twirling about as they focused intently. 

She was unfazed. She held her ground and frowned at him. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“Yuh don’t scare me.”

He held there for a moment, blade nearing her neck. He could feel her breath, her fast-paced heartbeat. Oh, she was scared alright, and yet she didn’t let any of it show in her expression.

“Now, yuh want that arm fixed, you’re gonna ask nicely. ‘Please Lifeline, pretty please with suga’ on top.’”

He snorted. It amused him enough that he retracted his blade, and backed off. “I’m not saying that.”

“Fine, then just sit up there on the table and shut up.”

He glared at her, but to her surprise, he obeyed. His heavy metal frame sunk into the plush of the medical chair. She worried a bit if any jagged edges of his might tear it. Well, it managed fine with Octavio’s legs and all, but he was at least lightweight, unlike this beast.

She was careful about getting close to him. Everything about Revenant was just so… threatening. The thought of merely touching him frightened her, nevermind opening him up and tinkering with him. She felt like even if she gave him what he wanted he might still kill her. But then, he’d do that if she said no too, wouldn’t he?

He sat with his head turned away, broken arm closer to her. She could see very clearly the hole where a bullet had entered it, near the wrist joint. Cautiously, she took his hand in hers and turned it over, looking just long enough to see the exit wound on the other side before he swung his shoulder and pulled it away from her. It seemed like a reflex, didn’t he want her help?

“You’re gonna have to let me touch you if yuh want that arm fixed.”

He made a sound like a snort, which seemed odd, for a machine. She rolled her eyes, and tried to ignore him as she pulled her work bench close to her, with all her tools.

Normally, she’d put on a fresh pair of gloves when doing medical work. But he wasn’t a human- so there was no need for sanitary conditions. Probably just needed a little soldering done. Gloves would just impede her dexterity anyway.

She reached again for his hand. She thought she might have to watch for sharp claws, but to her surprise, his fingers were rounded. She could see tiny indentations which harbored bladed tips. To keep them sharp, she reckoned.

Once again she turned his arm over, eyeing the bullet hole. She removed the wrap around his wrist and found an access panel beneath it, prying it open with a screwdriver and finding the source of the problem almost immediately. One of his wirey nerves had been severed by the bullet, so she would simply have to join it back together. Strip each side, and insert a cable connector between them. Easy stuff, and she should have the parts for it.

Out of the corner of her eye Ajay could feel him watching her. She looked up to catch his eyes staring right into hers, or, rather, he was looking off to the side, at her earphone? She wondered if her music was playing loud enough for him to hear it. His chest rose and fell and she heard what sounded like a long, stressed sigh.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what, skinbag.”

“Sigh. Yuh ain’t got lungs to do it with.”

“Habit,” he quipped. But that just raised more questions.

“Weird habit for a robot to pick up.”

“Yeah, would be weird, except I’m not a robot.”

“I’m sure yuh got some fancy thing yuh call yourself Revenant but it don’t change whatcha are.”

“You done?”

“Things like this take time, be patient or yuh goin’ in the next match with one arm.”

“No, I mean are you done talking.”

Impulsively she picked up a heavier tool from her toolbox-a wrench, and struck him on the head. She didn’t know if he could feel pain, but he certainly heard the CLANG that resulted.

He growled and stared daggers at her, rousing from his seat with the intent to retaliate.

“Now listen here you stupid tin can. This is _our_ ship, this is _my_ medbay. Now yuh not gettin’ away with bein’ rude to me here. Yuh say what yuh want in the ring but if yuh want that arm fixed yuh bein’ polite.”

She could see the fury in his eyes. She could see him calculating, measuring his stubborn pride against his want of repairs. Finally, he conceded. He said nothing, sat down and turned away, letting her work.


	2. Chapter 2

“Now, yuh ever want my help again? Then say thank yuh this time.”

“Hmph,” he stared for a moment at his hand, testing his fingers, bending his arm. She had replaced the damaged wrap around his wrist with a new one, noticeable since it was blue instead of white. But his arm worked like new, and that was all that mattered. He didn’t even make eye contact as he let out a low, sarcastic, “Thanks, medic.” 

She only rolled her eyes, as she usually did in response to him. “That attitude don’t impress no one yuh know.”

He didn’t have a need for repairs as much as a want. Usually when he was unlucky enough to sustain non-critical damage, his solution was to procure a gun, make his way to one of the dropship’s balconies, and shoot himself in the head. His shell would fall to the ground, and a fresh one would take its place. Of course slogging it all the way from the Hammond facility which housed it to the Games was a chore, and killing himself wasn’t exactly enjoyable. So having someone around who could do minor repairs was a boon, much as he hated to admit it.

“Go on, no need to dawdle here,” the medic spat. She was tired of looking at him.

This month’s games were in quick succession. They had gone straight from Talos to Solace with hardly any down time between the two. He wouldn’t have had time to use his usual method of fixing his arm, thus he had to resort to this, and he was admittedly bitter about it.

Revenant left without another word.

There weren’t many places on the dropship that were assured to be void of people, but the maintenance bay air lock was one. It was boring, and had no casual use. After the Games, the Legends typically wanted to mingle and celebrate- not his cup of tea. More importantly, he didn’t want to have to face the ones who had beaten him. That damn Gibraltar…he’d almost wished the lummox had killed him in earnest. Not that he could ever truly die.

It had been a long time since he had touched, or been touched, without violence at the root of it. He hated the experience to a visceral degree that was hard to articulate. Any amount of contact felt like a threat. The feeling of warmth from the medic’s palm that came with healing sat in his mind like a paradox. It felt like a fake memory, like so many others Hammond had put there. But he knew it to be real- the wrap on his arm proved as much.

There was something nostalgic there, as though it mimicked a feeling he hadn’t experienced since he had been human. But whatever memory he was tying it to was long-gone, distorted in a sea of lies. 

The Medic had helped him in the ring too- but there, they were allies. She had no reason to help him now save for his threats. He doubted he was special, the stupid kid probably did it for anyone who asked.

And she blamed  _ him _ for losing?

“Hello friend!”

Revenant groaned. This one wasn’t even made of flesh and blood, yet somehow was more annoying than the rest of them.

“That was a good match today, even if you lost.”

“Why don’t  _ you  _ get lost?

“Lost? Me? I would just find a path back home, it’s in my name!”

“Why are you here? Want a rematch?”

“Oo, that would be fun! Maybe we will have a chance, in a few days. But for now, Mirage told me to check on my new robot buddy to make sure you weren’t planning on murdering anyone in their sleep tonight. Now that I think about it, I don’t think he wanted me to tell you that part.”

“If I tell you no, will you go away?”

“Are you mad at me friend?”

“I am not your friend.”   
  
“Are you mad at me pal?” 

Revenant would be lying if he said he wasn’t. He had come here for mindless murder, and hadn’t really considered having to interact with anyone, let alone those he lost to. He sorely wished he could just kill him, to shut him up. But he was learning Legends didn’t go down as easy as his usual marks.

“Your win was a fluke, no chance it’ll happen again.”

“That’s not true, I have won lots of times! Maybe it is all the great moral support Mirage says I give.”

“Right, because that’s a factor, in a  _ bloodsport,” _ Revenant hissed. This M.R.V.N. was infuriating.

Pathfinder didn’t respond, his optics just swivelled in their socket as he stared at the Sim.

“What? Got nothing left to spew?”   
  
“No, it is just obvious that you are new. That’s okay!”

It was Revenant’s turn to struggle with a response. “New? I’ve been killing since before the ore in your stupid little head was pulled from the ground! Next match comes I’ll show you how new I am,” he growled, standing and forming his hand into a blade. “Now get out before I kill you early.”

“Your new bracelet is very pretty by the way!”

“I SAID GET OUT!”


	3. Chapter 3

The days went by, and before they knew it, another match was on the horizon. To Revenant’s endless despair, he had been paired with Octane again, and even worse, with the one who had taken him down last match. Much as he hated it, Gibraltar had to have some use if he could bring back a win.

But it wasn’t their skills he was concerned with, it was their banter. The endless, infuriating banter. Why couldn’t the other Legends just shut up and kill quietly?

“Hey murderbot, think you have some heavy ammo to spare?”

“He ain’t a bot bruddah, he’s a Sim.”

“Uh yeah, what does that even mean though, so he’s a _special_ bot?”

“It means he was a guy like us, at one point.”

"Don't make me laugh," Revenant spat. He was never like _them_.

“Ah don’t tell me that’s the path _I’m_ on compadre, I didn’t sign up for that when I got these legs.”

“Nah, different process bruddah, ain’t no one gonna bother to scoop your brains outta your noggin, I promise you that.”

“Phew that’s a relief,” he said. Then it hit him. “Hey, wait a minute how come???”

“Isn't it obvious? Because they don’t make Sims out of idiot brains,” Revenant interjected. He was getting a bit annoyed at the gossip.

“Ey Señor Loincloth,” Octane ignored the insult as he pulled another nickname out of his thick, overly-creative skull. “How old were you anyway? I mean when you got scary.”

“Don’t remember.” 

“I dunno much about Sims,” Gibraltar said. “But I know the average age they get digitized is something crazy low, like 25. Gotta get the brain tissue at its peak condition before it starts doin’ that pesky aging thing. Caustic told me that.”

“I told you, I don’t remember, or care.”

“Yeah, alright,” he chuckled, adjusting his sniper. “But I bet that’s why you’re so angry all the time.”

“I’m _angry_ because I’ve been stuck in this world with skinbags like you, dying over and over for three hundred years.”

“Nah bruddah. 25 is nothing, that’s a kid. You never got to live- I’d be angry too.”

He’d never really thought about it, the age of his original death. He couldn’t even remember which of his lives were the fakes and which was the original. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, and I suggest you quit before I remove your vocal chords.”

Gibraltar laughed. “I’d like to see you try bruddah.” He couldn’t tell if he’d struck a nerve, or if Revenant would just respond that way to any conversation. “But, you know, you ever wanna catch up on livin’, quit hiding and come out when we celebrate our win today.”

“Oh yeah, por favor? You would make such a crazy good conversation starter when chicas come up to me. I’d get to explain how I’m best buds with some horror movie villain lookin’ dude. They’ll love that!”

“Suure, why not. And afterwards we’ll all go out for ice cream.”

“Why? You know a place?”

Revenant didn’t respond. He’d get there eventually.

“Oh, you’re joking. Gotcha.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know he could do that either.”

“Hahaha right?”

“Got an enemy in my sights,” Revenant called out.

“Huh? You’re actually telling us instead of just doing your own thing?” Octane chided. It was a bit different from his behavior last match.

Revenant looked through the scope to see a lone Legend running right through an open field. There was virtually no cover- they were running from the ring which was closing in fast.

He zoomed in, aiming for their head. Easy kill… But he hesitated for a moment as he saw their face come into focus.

Before he could take the shot, he heard the crackling bang of his squadmate’s sniper. One shot shattered her shields, and the other got her in the knee. How crappy was Gibraltar’s aim that he couldn’t manage a simple headshot?

“She’s down, didn’t see any teammates,” Gibraltar said.

“Wait, who was it? I don’t have a decent scope.”

“It’s Che bruddah, but don’t worry, I just knocked her down.”

“Guess we should go finish her,” he said. “Man she’ll never live this one down. I’ll be hearing about it for months!” 

As the squad came out from behind their cover, Octane ran ahead. He wanted to be the one to get to her first. Gibraltar, bulky as he was, fell behind, and Revenant held up in center.

“Got one over here, I need help!” Gibraltar suddenly cried.

Octane stopped and turned on a dime, throwing down a jump pad and leaping into the air to get the drop on Gibraltar’s assailant. Revenant looked back as he heard a few shots dropped, and before he could adjust his course he heard the pair quip about their victory. They were fine, and he was the first to reach their previous quarry.

For most Legends, finishing off an opponent was a matter of simply incapacitating them. Deal a strong enough concussive blow, and they’d be down for the rest of the game. They would be injured, but they would recover and, so long as the crowd was in favor of it, return to the Games again. Moreover since many of them were friends, killing wasn’t always the most attractive prospect, even in a bloodsport.

This was not the case with Revenant. Participants merely knocking out their opponents was a practice largely resigned to an honor system. Revenant had no interest in being honorable. Other Legends knew if you were unfortunate enough to be cornered by him instead of someone more benign, he would snap your neck clear off your spine. There was no recovering from that.

Lifeline knew this as she limped back through the grass, tall simulacrum stepping steadily toward her. She figured it likely that Revenant was not the one so merciful to shoot her in the knee, and she knew what came next. Ajay hardly had the time to express her shock as she saw a firm, metal fist come crashing into her head.

She collapsed, down for the count. 

“AJAY!!” The springing of metal legs rang in Revenant’s ears as his idiot teammate rushed to him. How unlucky was he that they ended up squadmates twice in a row? He’d much rather have had the medic…

He clearly wasn’t cut out for the games, Revenant thought. Just look at him, dropping everything for an enemy. And she wasn’t even dead. Drama queen.

Octane held her in his arms and looked about to cry. “Dammit, why didn’t I get to her first? I could’ve-I would’ve-“

“What? Did the same thing I did?” Revenant spat. He crouched down and grabbed the stim-addict’s hand and placed it on the medic’s collarbone, right atop a major artery. “Feel it? That pulse?”

The mongrel seemed baffled. “You didn’t kill her? But you never, I mean- que??”

“Shut up and get up, ring’s closing soon.”

He nodded. Che would be fine, he hoped. But she shouldn’t have, this wasn’t like Revenant. But the Sim had been through his matches, killing anyone he pleased, and he had not yet won. He couldn’t help but wonder if winning the Games might be more satisfying than simply racking up kills.

“Thanks compadre, I owe you.”

Revenant grunted. “I didn’t do it for you, you’ll fight better if you’re not crying over another skinbag.”

“Awww,” he slapped him on the back. “Che’s rubbing off on you huh? She’s really good at that.”

The machine hissed and glared at his idiot teammate.

“Hey bruddahs, we gotta book it now!”

“Fine fine fine.”

But it was Revenant who lingered. With the loud, hyper moron gone he could hear something he hadn’t before. Very slight, but it was there; the steady beat of a drum. It was coming from Lifeline’s earpiece.

“Hey ese, you comin’ or what?!” Octane yelled from across the field.


	4. Chapter 4

She woke up in the dropship, in the public medbay where Syndicate doctors did what little they cared to do for injured Legends. D.O.C. was beside her, chirping with delight. Her head hurt like hell, and she imagined the Games were long over by now. Embarrassing; she hadn’t even placed.

Her leg had been bandaged. She was hurting a lot more from this one than the last, so it was probably a good thing the next game wasn’t for at least a month. She could go home this time, maybe think if she even wanted to _be_ in the next one.

The first thing she noticed, besides her aching head, was how quiet it was. It took her a moment to realize the reason was a distinct lack of music. She reached for her ear and realized her headphone was gone. The walkman it was attached to was also gone. She started patting down the bed, frantically looking to see if it had dropped. Nothing.

D.O.C. trilled, concerned. “Yuh didn’t see where it went, did yuh?” The drone only teetered from side to side.

Lifeline sighed. She was somehow more upset about this than she was about losing. Maybe it was in her quarters? She didn’t know _why_ it might be there, maybe Octane found it during the fight and-

“Ey! Che!” 

She was relieved to hear the voice. He had survived too then.

“Yuh lived too huh?”

“Lived? Uhhh, better than lived, try WON! You’re looking at the latest Apex Champion baby.”

“Congratulations O,” she barely had time to say it before he came in for a long, tight hug.

“Alright alright,” she laughed, hugging him back. “Watch the head, it smarts.”

“I thought I lost you when skeleton-man had you alone.”

“Guess we got lucky he was in a good mood or somethin’,” she said, though she was wondering herself. “Yuh haven’t seen my walkman around, have yuh?”

“That’s all you got to say? Damn chica, priorities,” Octane grumbled. “Nah, I haven’t, sorry.”

Ajay smiled. “Sorry, still recoverin’ I guess. When we get home, we’ll celebrate, yuh hear?”

“Chahaha - yeah we will!”

They sat for a while, talking of their plans of home. Neither one really said it out loud, but they were both lucky to be alive. It was just something about the Games you never really acknowledged in full, how devastating they were, how high the risk. If you survived, you tried not to dwell too much on ‘what if’. 

Eventually it got late, and Lifeline wasn’t keen on spending the night anywhere but her own room, attached to her much smaller, more private med bay. She said her goodbyes to her childhood friend and they both retired to their quarters.

Everything was as she left it. Medical equipment all neatly arranged. She didn’t have anyone to tend to, but it was _her_ space, and that was all that mattered. She slumped down at her desk and got her communicator. She messaged her friends back home, letting them know she would be coming home soon, that she had survived. 

_Good to hear._

_Love you girl!!_

She sighed. The replies were immediate. They had clearly stayed up worrying. Sometimes, it was the little things. 

She wondered for a moment if she should send a message to her folks, then laughed it off. They’d see it on the news, if they cared enough to watch.

She could feel herself dozing off. She wondered if she should let herself, or if she should run a diagnostic scan first. She didn’t have long to make a decision before the thought of sleep went out the window. The clink of metal footsteps stopped just outside her door, and they weren’t Octavio’s.

“Oh for the love of- You kiddin’? What is it this time?”

“What? Can’t stop by and say hi? Your idiot friend with the goggles always does.”

“ _We_ ain’t friends,” she said.

“Aww, now who’s rude? Don’t I get a little bit of credit for not killing you today?”

Ajay wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that one. She certainly wasn’t _grateful_ to have been beaten, but that was the nature of the Games. She had done the same to her own friends. Still, if he had let her live, she was sure it was for his own benefit.

“What do yuh want? Yuh broken again?”

He laughed. “Broken? Who’s broken? I’m the Champion, didn’t you hear?”

She pretended not to care. “No, I haven’t had time to read any news, I been busy dealing with a headache.”

“That so?” He invaded her space and looked her over, studying her. He had aimed well, no black eyes or fractured nose. She had nice features, and it would be a shame to ruin them.

“Think of it as revenge, for bashing my head earlier.”

“Ah now I know yuh barely felt that,” without warning she reared back and kicked him square in the stomach. She knew it was the only part of him that was soft. It buckled with the impact and left him reeling, clutching at it as he bent nearly in half. Maybe he felt something after all. “Now we’re even.”

He sputtered and coughed, and it led into a deep, bellowing laugh. “Oh you’re FUN!” Not even fully recovered yet and she could do that. He admired it.

He was embellishing the effects of the kick really. He wasn’t even mad, this time, but nonetheless he had a new way to get back at her for it. “I actually came to return this,” he said, pulling an object the size of his palm from one of the pockets on his chest.

Lifeline’s eyes widened. Revenant could see from her expression that she had certainly noticed its absence.

“Give me that!” She yelled, reaching to grab it. 

He raised it in the air, far above her head. He had almost a good two feet on her, and laughed as she grasped for it futilely. She was so wonderfully human and short.

“Uh uh uh,” he taunted, wagging a finger. He hit the play button, knowing the last track he left it on.

 _“Good evening Solace City!”_ It boomed. _“We’re the Flyer Liars, and I hope you’re ready to ROCK!!”_

“No no no!” Ajay whined. It was mortifying to hear it out loud, and even worse to know he’d listened to it before.

Revenant cackled. He turned up the volume as the music started. A high energy mix of guitar and violin with a drummer keeping the beat, a deep male voice picking up the vocals. It wasn’t bad, in fact he rather liked it. If he had been a more honest person, he might have said so, instead of, “Guessing the music thing didn’t work out, or you wouldn’t be here.”

Her cheeks were all flushed, he loved to see it. The music continued to play and she was getting passionate enough to stop it to start climbing up his chassis. She planted a boot on his hip and threw herself up to grab the walkman. She missed and grabbed his wrist instead. Suddenly off-balance, he fell to the floor with her on top of him, still cackling like a madman.

His hand was still holding the music-player, and the song was nearing its end. He had held it steady and aloft during the fall, ensuring its safety. Now it was reachable.

“Give me that,” she repeated, grabbing it finally. He let it go without much resistance. 

_“Thank you! Thank you so much!”_ Lifeline’s voice echoed through the med bay. The smattering of claps stopped suddenly as she finally turned off the walkman.

“Your violinist needs practice. I’m guessing that one is you?”

The comment caught her off guard. She wondered if, by his standards, that might count as a compliment to the other players.

“Drums,” she said.

“Hmm.”

She looked the walkman over, making sure he hadn’t damaged it. Her preferences were all messed up, based on what he had played. How much did he listen to? It seemed strange to her that the bot was capable of something as mundane as this.

“Hey! An’ where’s my headphone jack?”

She heard a clatter on the counter behind her, and by the time she turned back around, he was gone. Her little earpiece was sitting there, waiting for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine the music to be like Yellowcard.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there is a plot now

The commute from the arena to Solace City wasn’t long. It was a popular layover for the Legends, before they all returned to their respective homes. It had everything a celebrity could want; a vivid nightlife, good food and entertainment, and thousands of people eagerly awaiting them, autograph books in-hand.

Some of them had homes here, and others would need to commute off-world to return to theirs. But for a few, glorious days, it was time to celebrate, all together.

Naturally Revenant wanted no part in it. At the same time, he had nowhere to go. Nobody was waiting for him at any sort of home. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, wouldn’t mingle. Life between Games was pretty dull, so he usually made do with travel to some of the more lawless sectors of the Outlands, where he could mindlessly kill whoever he pleased.

None of that stopped the fleshsuits from trying, however.

“Come on, you’re a Champion now. People gonna want to meet you, tell you how great you are. Even you gotta be into that.”

“What is it with you skinbags constantly trying to pretend I’m one of you?”

“But I have no skin or bags friend, and I am going.”

Revenant growled. Of all of them, the damn robot really was his least favorite.

“You keep pushin’ people away like that, bruddah? You’re gonna have a long, sad life. Ain’t no way around that.”

That one came close, however.

“Let ‘im go, G. Man’s got ‘killjoy’ written all over him anyhow,” Lifeline said.

“Uh yeah and also, I think you’re forgetting the more important thing here? You can’t trust murderbot around people, he’ll ...uh, murderbot them.”

Shockingly, Mirage was the one with the most sense.

“Well, he did show he can restrain himself _sometimes_ ,” the medic interjected again.

She was defending him? How embarrassing.

He was thoroughly tired of the talking, and wanted to get away from it for good. Nothing was keeping him here, so he simply walked away. The dropship was perched on the top of a skyscraper, and as most of the Legends left through a stairwell, Revenant simply leaped from the roof to the next building over. Rinse and repeat, until he was far away. From them, and far above the streets crawling with skinbags.

Finally, some peace and quiet. Well, quiet at least. Quiet that let his mind wander freely, reliving the deaths of his hundred lives, quiet that left him alone with his pain, and a fervent wish to escape it.

The quiet was bad, but it was better than being around people who were not only difficult to kill, but tried to get to know him. 

He envied them. Even the way they could die. Oh, he envied that more than anything. How a human could just live a full life, and die at the end of it. That was how it should be. He knew he would never be able to do the second one, and now, thanks to Gibraltar, he realized he may have never done the first.

One thing he knew, Gibraltar was wrong with his estimate. He had been older. Too young to die, still, and truthfully he really hadn’t done much living. He was raised a killer. It was all he ever knew. He had many deaths, but only one childhood, and it was spent being groomed into the perfect assassin. No codes, no ethics, he would kill anyone he was ordered to. In truth, not much had changed between being human and simulacrum, and Revenant often wondered if this had been his fate since he was born.

But then, all that might be a lie too. These days he truly wasn’t sure which parts of his memory were real or not. So much was corrupted, or fake, altered or fragmented. It was hard to tell how much was truly real, truly human, and not just something put there to make him more efficient.

He peered over the top of the building, down to the streets far below. How far up was he, a hundred stories? More? He contemplated simply throwing himself off, and seeing if his chassis survived. Maybe he’d get lucky and land on a few skinbags in the process.

What was the point, he’d just wake up again, and have to figure out a new way to kill time all over again. 

Winning today did not satisfy him. So he was an Apex Champion, so what? It didn’t put him any closer to his goal. It didn’t make him happy, in fact it made him angry, thinking of the lives he spared for the sake of the win. Maybe it would have been more satisfying if everyone but him had died. Now _that_ was a bloodsport. But then, if that happened the Games might be over for good, and he’d run into the same problem; find something else to do.

Strangely, the only moment he found enjoyable was his time with the medic. How he had tortured her by simply playing her own music back at her, HA! 

He didn’t know why she was so embarrassed by it anyway, it was good. The date on the song was years ago, so he guessed the source of the self-consciousness was merely a matter of reliving an adolescence. He remembered that about being human; the sheer embarrassment of teenagehood.

But the song itself? It _was_ good. Lively and upbeat, as was everything else on her device. In honesty, he wished he had kept it. Music was such a wonderful distraction. It played with his mind in ways that let it wander through good memories, faded as they were, and he didn’t have many of those. Those moments with the medic in her medbay were now some of them, though he knew they likely weren’t for her.

He liked thinking about her. The train of thought was less distressing than his usual ones. He was learning that any distraction from the background radiation of endless violence, both experienced and inflicted, was a good thing.

“Gah,” he spat. How schmaltzy. He would never have thought the Games would make him soft. It was being forced to work on a team that did that. That horrid, constant restraint. 

But nobody would know. That their words affected him, that he did anything resembling caring. To them, he was cruel and unfeeling, unlikeable, and that’s how it would stay. He needed to stay guarded, just as he always had. 

He felt a drop of rain, then another. He grumbled. He didn’t mind getting wet, but the cloth bits of his simulacrum form got nasty if they were soaked for too long without drying. It was a nuisance to him since he was capable of smelling it.

He leaped to another building, one with an overlook, and placed himself beneath it just before the rain got bad.

The nook was bordered with tall glass windows, bright colors shining from the inside. It was a club. As he peered inside he could see a stage, musicians atop it surrounded by a crowd seated at tables. Looked high end. The music was a different genre than Lifeline's, more classical, low energy and calm.

He stared at the violinist- a woman probably not much older than the medic. He used to play something like it, didn’t he? Or was that another false memory? He hadn’t been lying when he recognized the flaws in Lifeline’s songs. He had some knowledge of the instrument, of that he was sure. Between his endless, punishing training, he had learned discipline in another manner; the creation of music. It was paltry enrichment for a young human brain.

He became intrigued with it. Perhaps if he got his hands on one, it would come back to him. Maybe that would keep him distracted for a while.

Between the rain and the distance, the music was barely audible, and Revenant found himself with a peculiar want to go inside. He was jealous. Of their clothes, the way they mingled, the effortless way they moved about without being seen as a freak. He could feel the envy boiling to a familiar, killer rage, but instead of giving in to it he merely tapped a finger on the glass window, unsheathing his claws. Carefully and quietly he carved out a neat circle and plucked it out. It was thick, and now with the hole, the music was far more audible. He sat and listened til the end of the song.

The woman with the violin took a bow. She walked off stage and left the instrument there. With any luck, they would start anew soon.

But Revenant sensed something wrong. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he could feel a threat was near. Between the loud patter of rain and the commotion within the club he heard the sound of footsteps on the roof with him. Security? No, that seemed unlikely. But nonetheless he prepared, raised his hackles and looked around.

He didn’t have much time to react before he found the source, someone dressed all in black and heavy gear came down from atop the overlook. And they had a weapon. Before Revenant could so much as move, his assailant fired an explosive round at him.

_BOOM!_

His torso was blown clean in half. The bot came crashing through the club window in two pieces, landing in a chorus of screams. But he wasn’t dead, yet, and whoever attacked him seemed to know it. They followed him down, landing on their feet in front of the fractured machine as club attendees cried and panicked around him.

Of course, he let his guard down for one moment…

“Got the Sim,” a male voice rang in a communicator. “Went off alone, easy stuff. Gonna pop one in his head and then get started with the others.”

 _“Got it, good work.”_ Revenant could hear the response in his earpiece.

“Get a good look skinbag, the next time you see this face, it’ll be when I’m pulling out your intestines by hand,” the Sim said with what little was left of his vocal processor.

The man only chuckled. “Big words for a dead bot,” raising his gun.

“You don’t have any idea what I am, do you?”

“You’re gone, that’s what,” confidence dripped in the stranger’s words as he put a bullet right between Revenant’s eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Lifeline remembered her first impressions of this place, how beneath her it had seemed. Times had changed since then, and now it was like a second home. Mirage always insisted on it as a locale for post-Game celebration, in no small part because he ran the bar.

Of course, knowing the owner of the Paradise Lounge did come with its perks. For example, the standards were low for booking it as a venue if you happened to be in a band. It had been a long time since Ajay had played with the Flyer Liars, and what better time for a reunion than after the Apex Games? Especially one she just barely managed to survive- though there was no need to tell them that.

Clark and J.D. were easy-going civilian types. They didn’t really “get” Lifeline’s work with the Frontier Corps and Apex Games, but they tried their best to be supportive, even if they had little to contribute when she came back with stories. At the end of the day, it served to make Lifeline a bragging point in her own right for them.

She gave them both a tight hug when they finally showed up at the Lounge, dressed in makeshift black tie that was clearly unusual for them, but she appreciated the effort all the same. She didn’t want to be up on stage and the only one wearing something nice.

“You look great Ajay,” Clark spoke with a deep, grainy voice that always sounded a bit hoarse from all the singing he did.

“Would yuh believe I got shot?”

“Ha ahh, classic Ajay,” J.D. chortled, mechanical arm bouncing with his movements, his violin case firmly in his hand. 

“Why yuh lugging that around? We ain’t playin’ for another few hours.”

  
“There’s some creepy dude lurking around backstage that looks like he might steal it,” he replied, whispering a bit.

“This guy, so paranoid,” Clark rolled his eyes. “My guitar and her drums are sitting there just fine, so if they  _ do  _ get lifted, you’ll be playing alone. Now  _ that _ would be funny.”

“Funny, or better than our usual stuff?” That quip earned J.D. a playful punch on the shoulder from Lifeline. 

She liked this. No threats, no anxiety, no danger. She could just relax, have Mirage make her a drink, talk with old friends… Lifeline smiled, letting herself sink into the calmness of the evening.

\-------------

He always hated this part. No matter how many times he came back, the experience didn’t get easier.

He was aware of everything. From the moment he died he became conscious once more, and felt the program glitch all over again. As every memory, every death, came crashing back into his head all at once. Just as he felt on the edge of gaining something resembling stability, here it was all again. The insanity, the weight of three hundred years of lies.

Revenant's eyes opened, or rather, turned on. He was standing atop a metal platform, surrounded by grass and mountains. Just another Hammond bunker in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t even know what planet he was on.

It took him a moment to adjust, to acclimate to the perpetual rage at what had been done to him, and focus it on merely the latest transgression. Who the hell was it that killed him?

It was obvious it wasn’t anyone from Hammond. No way they would be stupid enough to kill him knowing he would come right back. Some random schmuck looking for revenge for a lost parent or friend?

What did he mean “get started with the others”? His spare shells? It didn’t seem likely. Nobody knew about those. And here he was, just as usual.

He didn’t work with anyone else. If it was someone seeking revenge on him...then who were the others? The other Legends? Who would want to kill them?

_ “Who cares?”  _ Part of his mind stated the obvious before that particular train of thought got too far. He only wanted revenge, now. Whoever had killed him would pay.

He looked around, at the trees-those could be any planet’s trees, the hills-again, nondescript. To the sky, and there it was. Familiar constellations he had seen not long ago. So, he was still on Solace. He could still see the rainclouds over the city he had died in. His confusion cleared the tiniest of bits with the feeble comfort of having a destination. Get back to the city, and go from there. With that goal in mind, he started running.


	7. Chapter 7

The trek back to the city ended up being shorter than he expected. Even after all this time, Revenant had a habit of approximating the difficulty of things based on human standards. But his legs did not tire like a human, and he did not need to take breaks like a human. Every shell came with a power source that was seemingly inexhaustible, that or he never lasted long enough for him to exhaust it. He didn’t much care which one it was.

He made it back to the city and hesitated for a moment as he pondered how exactly he was to find the place he had died. Yet again, he instinctively worried based on a human standard. But this body came with an innate sense of direction with a digital precision- all the better to find assigned targets with. Locating the exact club where his old shell lied came quite easily to him. He could see it in his mind, and knew exactly where to go. He scaled the nearest building on the outskirts to avoid the skinbags on the streets, and quickly found his way back to the roof of the building with a shattered window.

It was dead quiet inside. No more club-goers. So, it had probably been a while, a few hours he reckoned. Calls had been made, reports filed with whatever excuse for authority Solace had, and now all that was left was the cleanup. Revenant spotted a lone janitor sweeping up bits of his old self from the floor. He had help, a few other onlookers and other cleaners were scattered around the space, but he focused in on that janitor. He worked here, his uniform matched the logo of the club. He seemed as good a place to start as any.

Revenant leaped down into the club and felt the crunch of glass beneath his heavy feet. The janitor dropped his broom and looked at the Sim, shock across his aged face. He looked down at the floor and immediately noticed the similarities between the fragments there and the being standing before him, and knew it couldn’t mean anything good for him.

Revenant wasted no time starting the interrogation. “The one who did this, see where he went?”

“I, I didn’t see no, what are you?”

A growl bellowed from the Sim’s throat as he grabbed the old man by his. “I’m asking the questions here,  _ not you.” _

“I don’t know where he went I-I’m just here to clean up the mess I swear!”

Revenant was getting frustrated. He wasn’t getting the answers he wanted, as quickly as he wanted, and instinctively he knew he’d have to force them out. He clenched his fingers around the tiny man’s jugular and hoisted him up. “Not good enough.”

How easy it would be to keep squeezing, to keep going til the light in his eyes died. But what good would that do? He was a janitor, what reason did he have to hide information? He had to remind himself that this one in particular hadn’t exactly crossed him. 

The man tapped on Revenant’s forearm and begged him to loosen his grip as he tried to speak. The Sim listened, slacking just enough to let him get words out. “W-we have security cameras,” he choked. “I-I can get you t-the tapes just p-please stop.”

“Then do it,” Revenant hissed. He dropped him and glared as the frail man sniveled and coughed.

“Okay, o-okay, yes,” people were staring. Revenant didn’t care. The janitor clambered off the floor and carefully led the Sim away, through the hall, into a tiny room full of screens.

It was a simple matter of locating one from mere hours ago. It showed everything that happened in detail, from multiple perspectives. Revenant watched as his own body came crashing through the window, he watched himself get shot between the eyes, as people screamed around him and fled, and most of all he watched his assailant leaving.

“Wait, that’s you, isn’t it? I guess I can’t blame you for being mad,” he laughed nervously, desperate to stay on the Sim’s good side and overcompensating as a result. “But how are you still-”

“Nobody asked you, skinbag.”

He paid close attention to how his attacker left, which direction he went. For a moment he thought he had lost him, and then he saw it- he had changed clothes, into something more formal, and left inconspicuously. But he recognized him, and the direction he was going in.

If his attacker had simply disappeared into the city, Revenant might have given up hope of finding him, but as he trailed the cameras and followed his moves, he began to get an inkling of where he was headed. He couldn’t be sure, but a hunch was all he had to go on.

Revenant huffed as he left, the janitor flinching noticeably as the Simulacrum shifted in the tiny room. He let out a deep sigh of relief as the bloodthirsty bot left without touching him again.

Back out in the city, Revenant looked around, trying to get his bearings. He knew where he was headed next and he wasn’t exactly thrilled about it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where everyone forces Revenant to behave in public.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide trigger warning for this one

The attention one received as a Legend could get a bit overwhelming after a while, but one thing that would never get old for Lifeline was her popularity among kids. 

“Lifeline!!” a squeaky voice punctuated the raucous chatter of the Lounge as the medic looked up, or rather down, to see a little boy no older than 6 running up to her, his dad following behind him.

“Sorry, he gets a little excited sometimes,” the father apologized.

“Oh, I don’t mind none,” she reassured him. “And you! Yuh look so dapper in your little suit.”

“Can I have your autograph?” the little man asked, holding up a worn red booklet.

“Of course,” Lifeline smiled. She took the book in her hand and scrawled out her signature. “What’s your name?”

“Sampson.”

“Tooo… Sampson, with love, Lifeline,” she finished, handing it back to him, laughing at the sparkle in his eye. Totally starstruck.

“Thank you thank you!” The little guy cheered as his dad winked at the medic and mouthed a thank you as well.

It was the little moments like this, Lifeline mused to herself. Her smile wavered as she noticed someone glaring at her from across the Lounge. An older man, dirty brown hair and disheveled black suit, was sitting at the bar and looking right at her, a noticeable sneer on his face as though she had done something disgusting. She was about to call him out when she heard the little boy from before nearly scream.

“OH MY GOD! DAD! DAD! IT’S HIM! THAT’S THE NEW ONE I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT!!” 

Lifeline looked up and instantly frowned, horrified as the little boy ran up to a familiar, tall, red, pointed figure. His autograph book was still innocently in-hand and waving about as he approached the bot without hesitation.

“Mr. Revenant, will you sign my autograph book too?”

He was off in the corner of the Lounge, having come in from the back, and was still mostly hidden away. He didn’t seem to appreciate being called out like this.

The Sim chuckled, Lifeline was instantly worried that child was dead. “They let kids watch me? This really is some kind of Hell.”

The child’s delight seemed to waver, it wasn’t the response he expected. To him, they were all playing characters, and it surprised him that the Sim was just as nasty as he was in the Games.

He held up his book and offered it to the bot, who couldn’t help but be amused by the naïve little thing’s inability to read his aggression.

“Oh, I’ll sign it alright,” Revenant turned his hand to a blade and took aim at the book. Sampson was confused, and it didn’t seem to register in his mind that he was in danger. He was very lucky that someone else was watching, and willing to take action to reign in the object of his admiration.

“This one! Always the jokester!” Gibraltar slung a muscular arm around the Sim’s shoulder and pulled him in, nearly putting him in a headlock. It had the desired effect of pulling him away from the kid and thoroughly confusing him.

“GET OFF ME!”

Gibraltar ignored him as he used his free hand to take the autograph book from the kid.

“Tell ya what bruddah, I’ll sign it for both of us! How’s that? This one, his handwriting is so messy you’ll thank me later when you can read it, believe me.”

“Thanks Gibraltar! You’re my favorite defense.”

“From…. Revenant and Gibby, with love! To Sampson- keep on believing, little dude. Annnd there-” he finished, handing it back just as Revenant squeezed himself out of the headlock and backed away, eager to put distance between them before squaring himself in an attack position.

Sampson’s dad was a lot more conscientious than he was, and he took the hint from Gibraltar who motioned to the exit, hurriedly grabbing his kid’s hand and leading him out.

“But I didn’t get everyone yet, dad!” his voice disappeared out the door.

Revenant was seething, how dare this lummox touch him. But he wasn’t who he was here for, he couldn’t get distracted by him, or annoying children. Now that attention had been drawn to him, he had to act quickly, but luckily he didn’t need to look too long before he saw that familiar face from the security footage at the bar.

“Oh shit,” the man didn’t have time to get up from his seat and run before Revenant practically flew over to him and grabbed him by the neck.

“I-it’s you, but how-“

“Oh good, you remember me,” Revenant’s grip tightened around his neck. People were staring- he didn’t care. Making a scene? Who cared. Good, in fact. “Saves me the trouble of monologuing.”

“H how..” he choked out, Revenant had to admire that that was still his priority; asking how he was alive rather than begging for mercy.

“Should’ve asked your questions when I was in a better mood, because now?” He extended his claws and moved them to the man’s abdomen, remembering his threat. “Now I've died, so I'm pretty pissed off, and I have a promise to keep, don't I?”

He reared his hand back. Oh, he was going to enjoy _this_. But one thing Revenant had overlooked was his present company, or more accurately, how much bolder and more capable they were than the average crowd. Before he could so much as slice through his killer’s clothing, he felt that same powerful set of arms wrap around him.

“Whoa there bruddah, that’s not a dance move I’ve seen before,” that damn grating, infuriatingly jolly voice fanned his rage like no other, and now its owner had a grip about him as he lifted his feet off the floor. “How many times tonight am I gonna have to keep you outta trouble?”

Revenant’s arms buckled under the brute’s strength and he dropped his target as a familiar crowd gathered around him. He recognized the medic, the annoying speedster, and the one with the decoys who was always wonderfully fearful of him, though right now he looked rather smug.

“LET ME GO!” Revenant hissed with a thousand daggers. He used what little freedom of movement he had to kick and raise his claws to Gibraltar’s forearm, digging them in deep- he barely flinched.

“Ah, had a cat that used to do that.”

“Why did yuh come here, just to cause trouble?” Lifeline spoke next, helping his killer off the ground as though he were nothing but an innocent bystander.

“You think I care enough about your stupid get-together to cause trouble for the sake of it? That scum tried to kill me, I’m here for revenge,” he spoke with confidence, but it didn’t earn him much from them.

“He...tried to kill you,” Mirage put a hand to his chin and pretended to ponder. “I mean, you probably did something first right? Am I crazy for thinking that?” Revenant only glared at him, and Mirage dearly hoped Gibraltar’s arms would hold. “Please don’t eat me.”

“Whatever this scuffle is, this ain’t the place for it bruddah. If what you say is true we can call the Syndicate, have them look into it, take him in for questioning…”

“I don’t want him questioned, I want him _dead,”_ Revenant twisted in his arms, digging his claws in further and becoming more enraged with every failed reaction. Did this man even feel pain at all?

“I don’t know what that thing is talking about,” his killer lied. 

Lifeline was strangely quiet. She seemed to be thinking something as she looked Revenant over.

“I believe him,” she blurted.

“Sorry, you what?” Octane laughed.

“I fixed him up not long ago. The bandage I put on his arm is gone, and so are the scuff marks. His current shell is new, so something happened to the old one…” she trailed off, looking at the accused.

Revenant stopped clawing Gibraltar’s arms and looked at the medic, a bit lost for words at how she had pieced together evidence he hadn’t even thought about, and moreover how she was defending him, again. Embarrassing…

“Where did this happen?”

“Night club across town. If you want to go there and take a look at the security footage I’m sure it’ll help convince you. Now _let me go,”_ he was tired of asking. He hated how strong this Legend was. “Before I decide I want to eviscerate every last _one of you_ instead of just him.”

“Yeah, this thing sounds crazy. I have no idea what it’s talking about.”

“ _It?”_

“You guys will protect me right? That’s what Legends do?” 

“Oh yeah, we’re basically superheroes, no big deal,” Mirage said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Revenant couldn’t help but notice the grimace that crossed the man’s face as the clown touched him- he didn’t blame him though.

“Is this the place?” A chipper voice interrupted. The Legends looked to see Pathfinder’s screen light up with an image, and for the third time that night, Revenant watched himself die. The bot had accessed the very security footage he himself had seen not long ago. Had it made the news?

“Huh, that’s… incriminating.”

“It isn’t anything, that’s not me,” the accused blubbered.

“I mean even if it was, like I said, the murderbot proooobably did something to deserve it.”

“Yeah, keep talking, you’re next on my list, after him,” Revenant growled.

“Gibby your arms aren’t getting tired, right? You got him? Haha, ha ha..” Mirage chuckled awkwardly, taking a few steps back.

“Oh I got ‘im.”

Gibraltar reacted to his constant struggling by squeezing harder, and Revenant started to feel like he couldn’t breathe. He knew it was a lie, that he had no lungs to breathe with anyway, but he felt it all the same. He stopped clawing Gibraltar's arms and grasped at his own chest, gasping as though he was suffocating.

“Huh,” it caught Gibraltar by surprise, and he eased up just a tiny bit to let him ‘breathe’. “You are one weird bot bruddah.”

“Right, well, I’ll just get out of here since that one seems to want me dead for no reason, and you seem like you’re struggling to restrain him,” Revenant’s killer said. He turned to leave, but found the entrance blocked by two armed men coming in the door, dressed in Syndicate uniforms. He froze in place.

“What the hell? Who invited them?” Octane blurted.

“Oh yes friends, I made a call while you were arguing because it seemed like the owners of the club that got destroyed put out a reward for this new friend’s identity. Was I not supposed to?”

“See bruddah, he’s getting arrested, you don’t have to kill anyone, everyone’s happy.”

“No, I’ll be happy when he’s _dead,”_ he hissed. How many times did he have to repeat himself? 

His killer looked nervous. There were too many people looking at him now, and the ones here to take him away were getting closer. He had been caught. So he did what anyone in his position would do- he ran.

“NO!” Revenant screamed. He dislocated every joint that he could and finally managed to gain some leverage on Gibraltar. A tiny gap in his arms appeared and he practically flew out of them. This one wasn’t getting away.

He ran for the back door. His killer might have made it, if not for the thin metal cable that came out of nowhere and wrapped around him long before Revenant could reach him. His arms and legs bound, he toppled over and was dragged across the floor to that familiar blue M.R.V.N.

“It seemed important to you that this one didn’t get away. Did I do good, friend?”

Revenant laughed. “Oh, you did great,” he sneered as he reached for the whimpering human on the ground. But Pathfinder, like the rest, seemed absolutely determined to deny him what he so rightfully deserved. He reeled in his grapple and pushed the human behind himself, determined to protect him.

“You know, you are all making my life very difficult right now. If you’d just let me kill him, I’d leave you all the hell alone,” though he wasn’t quite sure about that last part, he was pretty pissed off at just about all of them.

“Sorry friend, but I don’t think my other friends want me to let you, and they are usually right about these things.”

“Hey, thanks M.R.V.N.” one of the Syndicate men chimed in as they put handcuffs around the struggling fugitive’s feet and hands and unwound a slackened grapple.

“No problem friend!”

Revenant moved toward them. Good, he was bound, all the easier… yet once again he found himself restrained. Pathfinder grabbed his arm, and unlike Gibraltar, he didn’t need a good angle or all his strength to hold him back. He weighed more than he did and was just as strong.

“You’re not getting away,” he hissed. “I will find you. I don’t care how long it takes, how many people I have to go through. I _will kill you_.”

“Let me save you the trouble,” the man said. Revenant watched as he opened his mouth, dislodging something from the back of his teeth and chomping down. He heard a crunch, and within moments the man’s eyes glazed over as foam spilled from his mouth. His limbs slackened as the Syndicate men held him aloft, shocked as their prisoner became destined for the morgue before their eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Revenant roared.

“Are you  _ fucking  _ kidding me?”

He had been angry before, and he still was, but now it was mixed with a virulent depression, dissatisfaction, and a lack of closure. He hated this feeling and wanted it gone, that’s why he’d come here. And now, thanks to these stupid skinsuits and that one skinbag-loving asskisser of a M.R.V.N., he had lost his chance.

It didn’t matter that his killer was dead, it mattered that _he_ hadn’t been the one to kill him, to get his desperately-needed vengeance. There was no satisfaction when your target offed themself.

The Syndicate men carted the corpse out the door without drawing any more attention to themselves. The rest of the party-goers seemed blissfully unaware at what had just happened, or if they saw, they didn’t know the details. They gossiped a bit, and carried on with the evening.

Revenant stood outside, watching the men from the Syndicate throw the corpse into the back of a van and leave. It gave him a bit of pleasure to see the man being treated so unceremoniously. He had that, at least.

“Hey, got a second?” A woman in a blue dress stepped outside, disrupting the silence.

“No, I don’t,” he started walking away. He was hardly in the mood for any more talking.

“Revenant, wait,” she grabbed his arm, and it earned her a deadly glare. He shook her off violently and looked primed to kill.

“Don’t  _ fucking  _ touch me,” he warned. “You got a death wish, skinbag?”

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened.”

“That’s rich, you’re sorry? It’s all of your faults I didn’t get to kill that scum.”

“I’m not sorry yuh didn’t get to kill something I sorry yuh  _ got  _ killed, looked painful.”

“I don’t give a damn about your sympathy.”

“Well, too bad, yuh have it.”

Revenant growled. He was getting so sick of her, where did she get off talking back to him like this? He reared up to face her and glared down.

“You better watch your mouth, before I remove it.”

She kept going, completely fearless. “I know yuh wouldn’t have swallowed your pride and come to me for fixin’ if death wasn’t something so unpleasant. I just think it’s important for yuh to know someone out there sees that and doesn’t think yuh deserve it, no one does.”

“Oh but I do. You heard the decoy clown, didn’t you? Maybe I killed that guy’s whole family and he had a good reason to kill me.”

Lifeline shook her head. “No, he was after somethin’ else.”

“Great, I don’t care.”

“He gave up kind of easy, didn’t he?”

“The hell are you on about,” Lifeline seemed like she knew more than he did, and he didn’t like that. 

“Think about it. He kills you, then what? He comes here just to party? I don’t believe it. He was here to do something to us… I don’t think his beef was with you alone.”

“I don’t care.”

“Oh yuh don’t? Big proud revenge machine doesn’t care if his killer gets what he wants in the end? It don’t bother you one bit?”

“And what is it he wants?”

“I don’t know, Legends dead is what I reckon.”

“Well, you’re all alive, sadly, so I guess he loses.”

“He had a suicide pill, he was ready to be caught and take the information he had with ‘im. J.D. said he saw a shady character snoopin’ around backstage, so my hunch is it’s something in the Lounge. He was willin’ ta die to hide somethin’.”

“Well Nancy Drew, it sounds like you’ve got a stage to inspect, so why don’t you run along, and leave me alone.”

“Nobody else is takin’ this seriously. Just business as usual in the Outlands; they’re all goin’ about with it as if nothin’ happened, naggin’ me to get ready to go to stage and get started,” she complained. “That’s why I came to you.”

“Ahh, there it is. The ulterior motive. You don’t care about me, you just want help.”

“I can do both, why else would I have patched yuh up?”

“I was threatening you.”

“Yuh don’t scare me, I told yuh that.”

Revenant extended his claws, shaping his hands into freakishly long, sharp spindly things as he glared down at the short, defenseless medic in her little dress. “Then you’re an idiot.”

“Your killer wins if I’m right and yuh don’t help me,” was all she said, her eyes locked on to his. 

Revenant took a moment to process it. Did he really care? The medic was smarter than she let on, and he realized she was right. His attacker clearly didn’t care if he died, he had come there  _ prepared _ to die, so his goal was something else. Revenant hadn’t seen it because he only had eyes for himself, for what had been done to him. But the medic…he realized she was also right that he didn’t exactly want his murderer, or whoever he worked for, to have the posthumous satisfaction.

“Fine,” he conceded as he sheathed his claws. Maybe this would be a good distraction. It wasn't like he had anything else to do, and maybe this would at least give him some closure. “What’s your plan?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are enjoying the story, I really hope you can find the time to leave a comment! Taking a little break as I figure out the rest of the plot. Cheers!


	10. Chapter 10

“Nothin’ too fancy, I just want yuh help combing the place, looking for anything suspicious.”

“That’s it? That’s your grand plan?”

“I reckon you’re better at spottin’ things, with those Sim eyes,” what she didn’t say was that it wouldn’t hurt, either, to have him on her side if it came to a fight.

“Sounds like you want that damn tracker, not me.”

“Bloodhound doesn’t come to these shin digs.”

“Tch, shocking.”

Lifeline ignored him as she led them back inside. He earned a good amount of glares just by being there, but nobody dared do much about it. Gibraltar was eyeing him, ready to restrain him again, but he seemed at ease when he noticed Revenant was tailing the medic. 

She led them backstage, behind where her drums and Clark’s guitar were resting. She knew they were meant to use them soon, and was a little disappointed that she was too anxious to take the time to do it.

J.D., on the other hand, certainly hadn’t forgotten, and let his bandmate know as much.

“Where are you going?! We’re about to be on!”

“Stall for me, make Mirage do stand up or somethin’.”

“Are you kidding me?” the violinist ran a frenzied hand through his hair. He eyed the threatening-looking robot that accompanied her, and wondered if that had something to do with it.

“What are you doing with him, everything okay Ajay?”

“Yup, yup it’s all fine, just want to check somethin’,” she said, opening the latch to the stairwell. J.D. didn’t take her seriously before, and she wasn’t keen on a second attempt to convince him.

“But-”

“Sorry!” She said, closing the door behind them. She didn’t want to stay to humor them.

“So rude,” Revenant taunted. “What will all those poor folks do without your music to brighten their night?”

“Alright, that’s enough.”

“Shame, would have been nice to hear it live.”

That one caught her off-guard, it almost sounded sincere.

“Only so I can see if you get as embarrassed as you do when hearing it played back to you,” he quickly remedied his mistake.

“I promise yuh won’t catch on fire if you let yuhself say something nice once in a while.”

The stairwell opened up into what could only be described as a storage space, much less colorful and well-decorated than the grand atrium upstairs. It was full of boilers and piping, with miscellaneous stage props scattered about its walls.

“Smells weird down here,” the Sim quipped.

“You can smell?”

He scowled at her, she couldn’t tell if she had offended him.

“Sorry, that was probably rude. Yeah, it does smell a touch musty, don’t it? It is a basement.”

“Nah, not a basement smell,” Revenant couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was, but it was lighting up his sensors, and he felt a vague feeling of being threatened.

“Well, it looks like a basement, but I don’t see anythin’ amiss.”

“You’re not looking hard enough,” he corrected her. 

There was a silvery metal object in the room that didn’t quite seem to fit. Small, unassuming, but lit up with blue LEDs that indicated some kind of activeness, which was odd for a storage space that didn’t seem very frequently used. 

“What is this thing?”

“Not sure, you might say my tech savviness is a few years out of date,” but what he knew himself mattered little, he was compatible with most things. The tip of his finger opened up to reveal a conduit that slipped into the first socket he could find on it. The information bled into his head as soon as he made contact, and he nearly buckled over laughing.

“What? What is it?”

“Ohh, this is good. That guy was a crackpot. This little thing is set up to send out a manifesto. It’s all about how the Apex Games are poisoning the Outlands, how we’re a bad influence on kids, helping to normalize violence and lawlessness. Oh, and it ends with a nice little quip about how the Legends that died tonight are just the beginning, there will be more, and this is a warning.”

“So he _was_ planning on killin’ us,” Lifeline said, triumphant. She wasn’t particularly happy about being right, but she did feel vindicated.

“Sure was by the sound of it. The only question is how.”

“Maybe he’s got friends on the way?” Lifeline pondered.

“Could be,” Revenant mused as he detached his finger. “Still, what a guy. His idea of condemning a bloodsport is to kill everyone involved. You gotta admire his methods, if not the hypocrisy.”

“Yuh really not takin’ this seriously, are yuh?”

“Don’t know why I should. He already killed me, he’s welcome to try again.”

“The rest of us can’t respawn, yuh think of that?”

“Yeah, and you all take it for granted, don’t you?”

Lifeline put her hands on her hips. Revenant wasn’t sure why she expected her scolding to faze him, but it did remind him he was here to ‘help’.

“The little data pod is on a timer, signal goes out in just a few minutes. Don’t know what that means for his plan, whatever it was,” Revenant said. As he moved about the space he noticed that damn smell again, and it was stronger. He saw a lump in the corner, covered with a black blanket that looked noticeably less dusty than the surrounding objects, as though it were new.

“That’s… worryingly soon,” Lifeline shook her head. Maybe she should warn the others, before it was too late. She had proof now, at least, but now she was just worried she was wasting time. “Maybe this was stupid.”

“Not as stupid as you’d think,” Revenant said. He lifted the blanket off the suspicious shape and tottered back on his feet as it became apparent what lied beneath it. Four enormous barrels tied together with wiring, and at its center was a timer with a very demoralizing number on it. 2:58, then 2:57... 2:56

“Oh my god.”

“Hmm, yep,” Revenant took a sniff. “That is definitely high explosive, probably one of a set. Enough to level the building, I figure.”

“Revenant, I need you to listen to me,” Lifeline grabbed his wrists, prompting a snarl. “Please. I need yuh to go back upstairs and get everyone out of the Lounge in any way you can.”

He pulled away, chortling at the ridiculousness of the request. “Why should I?”

“You came down here to help me, right? Help make sure your killer didn’t get the last laugh? This was his endgame, this goin’ off with everyone inside. Now I’m gonna try ta disarm it but I might not make it. Get everyone out, scare ‘em if you have to.”

“This is stupid.”

“Please, Revenant.”

He had to admit, he liked seeing her beg. And she was asking him to make a scene? Well, he could definitely do that.

Lifeline set herself on the bomb, trying to make sense of it. She could do this, she was sure. In less than three minutes? Why not? Don’t think about it, she told herself.

Revenant rushed back upstairs and tried to think of his own plan. It wasn’t hard, being loud, conspicuous and violent was his specialty. He needed to make an entrance. He went back to the atrium and looked around, his eyes resting on the grand chandelier in the center of the room. He clambered up the wall and launched himself at it, hoping it didn’t fall early as it swayed with his weight. 

He screamed, loud and blood-curdling as he could. A monstrous, synthesized voice echoed through the walls. That got their attention. Things got quiet, the band, partial as it was with only two members improvising, stopped playing and everyone stopped talking. People moved out from under him, and he could see a hundred faces looking at him, scared. Good.

He cut the cord holding the chandelier and rode it all the way down to the floor. It landed with a CRASH and elicited many screams. Good, good, all of this was good.

“GET OUT!” He bellowed. He picked up the nearest skinbag and hurled them into the crowd.

People were good and screaming now. Music to his ears.

“Oh my god!”

The Lounge-goers were running for the exits, the Legends seemed to be helping them along.

“I _told_ you inviting him was a bad idea! I blame Gibby for this.”

Revenant knew he wasn’t a priority-people’s safety was. He knew the others would see it that way, and as far as they were concerned, he was the only threat.

He kept a counter in his head. It had been a little less than two minutes. He set to spooking stragglers, urging them toward the exits in the only way he knew how; by scaring them. It wasn’t hard to do, looking and sounding the way he did.

The club was nearly empty. The quiet was eerie, but Revenant could hear the commotion had moved outside, just beyond the door he stood at. He wondered if they were quite far enough away.

But the idiot medic was still down there, still trying to save the day, and Revenant realized it bothered him, somehow. He despised himself for caring. He had no idea if the hair-brained idea that popped into his skull would even work, but he didn’t have time to think about it. He rushed outside to meet the furious glares of the other Legends, all poised to fight, and those that had brought them had weapons drawn. 

The Sim ignored them, for the most part, as he raised his hands in front of him and summoned a Totem, feeling his metal turn to smoke as he touched it. They expected him to run to them, next, but instead, he turned back into the club.

“None of you skinsuits better mess with this,” he warned. He left them looking baffled behind him as he rushed back to the Lounge, back to the basement in that little unassuming corner where his murderer had stationed the bomb. 

Why, why was he doing this? 

He was doing this because she had stayed. She stayed because she wasn’t sure if he would listen, she stayed because she didn’t know that the club was mostly empty. She stayed because she cared more about saving others than about saving herself. She stayed for the same reasons she had dared to patch him up, despite everything nasty he said and did to her and others. She was selfless, she was everything he was not.

And now, she would be dead from it. As Revenant rushed beneath the stage, smoke trailing behind him, he knew the outcome was likely, and he still wasn’t sure why it bothered him so damn much.

He found her there, still desperately trying to disarm the bomb with mere seconds left. He could see the hopelessness on her face, the fear, and the shock that it morphed to as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away, the smoke from his body seeping into her. She turned to ash and fire in his arms as the ticker rang down to zero, and a blinding light engulfed them. The intensity of the burning sensation that followed was enough to make them both scream, but it lasted only a moment before the Totem summoned them back outside.

The trickle of smoke cleared from their bodies to reveal the Sim lying on the ground, arms still wrapped around the tiny medic atop him. 

It took a moment to process everything. There was dust and debris absolutely everywhere, pieces of the building strewn about the street and a ringing in the air that followed the boom. But the first thing Revenant really noticed was the worst thing of all; all the others surrounded his Totem, and were staring at him.

Lifeline came out of her daze and looked down at him, still lying on top of him. The Sim quickly regained his wits and pushed her off.

“Get off,” he growled, standing up and dusting himself off. “What the hell are you all looking at, skinsuits?”

“What just happened?”

“My bar! Oh my god my bar! What did you do???” Mirage sounded like he was holding back tears-poorly.

“Che! Are you okay chica?” Octane helped her up off the ground. 

“I’m.. fine. I’m okay,” though she wasn’t sure why. She was still putting together exactly what had just happened. “Did he-?”

“Yeah and it’s like, the second time too. Well sorta. You really got it bad huh amigo?” Octane chuckled, hoping he was wrong because the prospect honestly freaked him out more than he let on.

“Shut it, half-suit,” Revenant growled. He hated the stares, he just wanted to disappear.

“You do this bruddah? You got a lot of explaining to do.”

The Sim didn’t exactly appreciate the immediate accusation, but at the same time he didn’t care. They could all think he was responsible and he wouldn’t lose any sleep.

“He didn’t do this, that guy from earlier was some kinda radical. We were all on his hitlist and if he hadn’t gone for Rev first we’d all be dead.”

“What did you just call me?”

“...huh,” Gibraltar said. “So the bot was trying to save us when he caused that scene?”

“That was very nice of you friend!”

“I wasn’t trying to save anyone,“ he sputtered. “The guy who killed me wanted you dead, and I didn’t want to let him win. He doesn’t _get to win.”_

Gibraltar laughed, spikes of fury wracked the bot as the big guy slapped his back and cheered him on, “Right right, you’re alright bruddah.”

Revenant threw his arm off and growled. This was too much, he hated every second of it, and the longer he spent here, the more Lifeline explained, the more everyone looked at him with something other than fear and disgust. Even Mirage was starting to look at him that way, through the tears of course.

Revenant walked away. Lifeline grabbed his arm and tried to stop him, but he threw her off too. She had fooled him, she didn’t care if he had revenge, nor closure, and he gained neither from this escapade. All he had done was help her, and by extension everyone else.

He latched on to the nearest building and started to climb, away from their stares, their kind words, their thanks. The more distance he could put between himself and them, the better.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short fluffy detour before shit hits the fan

Naturally, the Sim couldn’t avoid them forever, if he wanted to participate in the Games.

The next time they saw him, it was on the dropship, same as always. He was paired with Pathfinder and Mirage, who tried his best to make small talk with his teammate, notably less afraid of being eaten than he was before.

“I had the place insured, you know,” Mirage rambled. “S-so you know it’s uh, getting rebuilt and all that.”

Revenant glared threateningly at him, and Mirage grinned awkwardly.

“Just thought you might be interested, I don’t know. Probably stupid.”

“I think it’s interesting, friend!”

The conversation ended, to the Sim’s infinite relief. At least Mirage took the hint. Revenant found all this positive energy surrounding him to be nauseating. He tried to devise a scheme that would get them all to feel the proper way toward him again, only to find he wasn’t as passionate about doing it as he used to be. All he was feeling now was apathy. So, instead of aggressive quips and snide remarks, the other Legends found him uncharacteristically quiet that round.

Their Squad went down fairly early in the Game, taken out by Lifeline, Wraith, and Gibraltar, all typical knockers, rather than killers. Wraith got a bit rough with the Sim, using her kunai to immobilize his joints, and once again he found himself wandering into Lifeline’s med bay after the fact.

He didn’t have to ask, this time. He was easy to read. Lifeline wondered if he’d be quiet here, too, but he surprised her.

“Sorry about today’s match, Rev. Yuh know it’s nothin’ personal, right?” She said, trying to break the silence.

“Don’t call me that.”

“If yuh don’t like that one pick another, go on, suggest one. ‘Revenant’s just too long and edgy for me.”

“Shithead, scum, murderbot, take your pick,”

She clanked him on the head with her wrench.

“None of that here, yuh know that.”

“What, I can’t insult you  _ or _ myself when I’m on the table? That’s a new rule.”

“Yuh can’t be nasty to anyone, Rev.”

He growled. He was tired of the rules. Might just be easier to not talk at all at this point.

“Arms up,” she said.

He listened, his shoulders separating as he lifted his arms above his head and she touched up his damaged joints.

“Yuh know we were all pretty disappointed we couldn’t play together that night, so the boys an’ I decided to do a makeup reunion at the Soirée this weekend, the one to welcome the new Legend. Yuh welcome to come.”

He only snorted.

“Now don’t be like that, yuh came to the last one, sorta. I’m sure whoever it is will want to meet the Legend that came before them too. Figured it was worth an ask.”

"You figured wrong.”

She only shrugged. “Arms down.” As she set to working on his knees next, she kept the inquiries going.

“I never did get to ask, why did yuh save me?”

That one made him flinch, and he pulled his leg away from her before she stubbornly put it back in place. It was as though he were trying to run away, even though she wasn’t done yet.

“I was just curious if a Totem could work that way,” he said, turning away from her incriminating stare.

“Why ever would yuh need to test n’ see if a Totem could save someone? Unless yuh plannin’ on savin’ others.”

“Shut up.”

“I thought it woulda been so you could make sure no one died, yuh know, like that radical wanted. So yuh could win one over yuh killer.”

“That too.”

“Not very good at keepin’ yuh story straight,” she laughed.

“Whatever.”

“Can I ask yuh somethin’ else?”

“No.”

“Yuh really do seem interested in music,” she said, pulling her ear bud out and letting her walkman play aloud. She put it on the table so he could hear it better. Not one of her songs, just something modern. “Yuh wouldn’t happen to want one of these for yourself, would yuh?”

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. “That supposed to be some kind of thank you gift? Not interested.”

“Just figured I’d ask,” she said. He was being stubborn, but his actions betrayed his words. He grabbed the walkman and started flipping through the songs, letting each play for mere seconds before he grew bored with it and changed. He stopped on one that he finally let linger. It was a ballad, slow and rhythmic, with a lone violin. Lifeline stopped working for a moment as his body language noticeably changed to something much calmer.

“I used to play, you know, back when I was human.”

She raised her brows at the sudden change in tone. “I think that’s the first thing yuh ever told me about yuh human self.”

He turned the music player off, and seemed to snap out of his trance. But he held on to it, and Lifeline smiled. “I was gonna make yuh your own but if yuh want that one it’s all yours, easy to download stuff into a new one.”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t throw it at her either, which she guessed was a good sign.

“What else do yuh miss?”

“I don’t have to answer your questions just because I’m sitting here.”

“Come on, humor me.”

“No.”

“Alright fine then, be a dick.”

“Pretty cruel nickname, considering the topic.”

That one got her snickering, then she caught herself. “Sorry, that was rude. I’ll call yuh a jackass from now on, like Bang does.”

“Heh,” he liked her quick wit. “You want honesty? I miss..wearing clothes. You think it’s easy going out looking like this?”

“That’s reasonable. Yuh know if you lose the shoulder blades and chest pockets I bet yuh could find somethin’ that fits. Hell, we’ve dressed up Pathfinder before.”

“Fat chance.”

“Yuh should ask Gibraltar, guy’s bigger n’ stronger than most folks, he’s got a tailor that makes his life easier, and after that night I bet he wouldn’t mind helpin’ yuh. Guys a big softie.”

“I’m not asking anyone for favors.”

“An’ what do yuh call this?” Lifeline tsked. “I’ll ask him for yuh, just promise me you’ll actually go.”

“I promise nothing.”

Lifeline puffed, she hated his stubbornness. But she had ways of working with stubborn patients. She was done with his repairs, but he didn’t know that, still laying on the table and waiting. Lifeline pulled a measuring tape out of her drawer and started putting it to his limbs, his waist, and his shoulders. He started getting particularly suspicious when she took his inseam. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Maintenance stuff.”

“You’re a bad liar,” he growled, snatching the tape from her.

She shrugged, wheeling back to her desk as she scribbled down some numbers. He could see she was done, and he could feel it too, his limbs much less stiff than before. He got up, and prepared to go. He slipped the walkman into his pocket as inconspicuously as he could, and stopped at the doorway. 

“If you’re going to do that,” he thought for a moment, finger tapping anxiously on the doorframe. “Triad, red and gold, circa 2334.”

“Never heard of that brand.”

“You shouldn’t, it’s from 2334.”

“What makes yuh think anyone can find a 400 year old brand?”

“You can’t, but searching it should bring up an image at least. I’d settle for a mimic. Oh, and give it a hood.”

“That was a pretty fast change from ‘I don’t want any favors’.”

He didn’t respond, seemingly self-conscious about all he had allowed himself to give away just now.

As Lifeline started cleaning up, she heard a buzz from her phone, and picked it up to see that someone had transferred her a sum of money. The sender was anonymous, and it caught her off-guard, until she figured out the amount seemed like a reasonable price for a tailored suit.

“No favors, huh,” she smirked, looking down at her desk where she’d stashed the paper full of measurements. Guess she had to do it now.

* * *

Gibraltar was ecstatic when she came to him with her request, though he was a bit skeptical it could be done without the Sim going to meet a tailor in person. But he gave it a go anyway, texting Lifeline the occasional question or clarification, and she used the spare parts she kept in the med bay to fudge the numbers as best she could.

The suit Revenant had requested was old-fashioned as hell, but it didn’t look that bad. It was simple enough from the waist down, but the gilded bits of the sleeves and red vest seemed extravagant. Maybe that was the style back then, or maybe that’s how he had been as a man; dedicatedly extra. The money he’d sent was more than enough to cover the extra work, so either he’d miscalculated, or he felt a bit of guilt.

He waited til the absolute last minute before the Soirée to show up and try it on. The club this time was on Psamathe, and by the time he came to the dropship med bay, Lifeline was already dressed. She resented him for making her do this in formalwear.

“Yuh know I got work to do, Yuh makin’ this very inconvenient,” she scolded him as he sauntered into the med bay, but not for repairs this time.

“Hmm,” he hummed, eyeing the folded clothes on the counter. He stepped toward them and ran his hand over the scarlet fabric of the vest, tapping the fine line of gold on its breast. “You did good.”

The praise was rare, and it was genuine. “Yuh don’t even know if it fits yet, come on, up on the table.”

He sighed. He obviously wasn’t looking forward to this part, to being dismantled. That was why he had put it off.

But he offered little resistance as she unfastened the bolts keeping his shoulder armor in place. It hurt, when she clipped the wires that secured the nerve connection to them. She could see that about him as he winced through the work. He wondered how easy it would be to repair, later. Did he even want it repaired?

She removed the pockets on his chest next, which were a simpler matter. The change to his silhouette was severe, he almost looked naked, the smooth ball joint of his shoulder exposed for all to see and his chest noticeably slimmer without the bulk of his gear.

It seemed to affect his mood too, his body language becoming much more guarded. 

She tried not to let his ungratefulness bother her too much as she handed him the suit. He didn’t stay to try it on, preferring instead to leave without saying goodbye. He probably wanted privacy, but he didn’t have to be so rude about it. Maybe it was her who should be used to it by now.


	12. Chapter 12

The Flyer Liars weren’t exactly an upscale type of band, but once again Lifeline’s status lent itself to persuasion. The novelty of having a Legend be a part of the entertainment was too good to pass up, and they were told the newest Legend even gave the idea their blessing.

What they knew about the newcomer was sparse. These things weren’t so often so shrouded in secrecy, but the one thing they knew about her through word of mouth tonight was that she was a woman, and she was very, very late.

That, or she chose not to out herself yet. She could be any one of the ordinary-looking people in attendance. That might be a tactical choice. Perhaps she was among them, scouting around, getting to know the Legends and looking for weaknesses without them knowing who she was.

But Lifeline wasn’t too concerned with spotting her. As she got up on stage, finally able to play her drums- a new set since the last one went up in flames- she couldn’t help but look into the crowd and see if he was there. He hadn’t promised anything, but she remained hopeful. It didn’t distract her one bit as she let herself sink into the nostalgic feeling of her and her bandmates playing together, a well-oiled fusion of guitar, drums, vocals and violin. She didn’t care that it didn’t fit the fancy venue, she had always been a rebel.

She thought the Sim wouldn’t distract her, but she did miss a beat by just the tiniest of bits as she eyed an unusually tall, hooded audience member somewhere near the back. He stayed until her set was finished, and then for the encore.

As she took a bow, she noticed the figure had disappeared. Typical.

She stayed to mingle for a bit, to say her thank you's. J.D. and Clark both invited her to drink, but she declined. She instead went looking for him.

Despite the garb, he still towered above most people, so he shouldn’t have been hard to find, and yet Lifeline didn’t see him anywhere.

She wandered outside, wondering if she might catch him, but didn’t see him there either. She smiled to herself as she looked to the top of the building to see a pair of dress shoes dangling over the edge. He had climbed up and away from people, again. He really was easy to read.

She had to get to the roof the old-fashioned way, without any ice pick-like claws to help her. It was off-limits to non-employees, but that didn’t stop her from persuading a locked door or two.

“Knew you’d come up here the minute I saw you smirking from the street.”

“Shoulda run sooner then,” she replied, taking a seat a respectful distance from him and letting her feet dangle over the edge with his. Neither of them were scared of heights. He quickly took notice of what was in her hands.

“Another unnecessary offering I take it.”

“This one ain’t for keeps, J.D. would kill me if he knew I even brought it up here,” she said. She unlatched the clips of the violin case she was holding and removed the instrument within.

“Why are you doing all this for me?”

“I dunno, maybe some kinda guilt. Maybe yuh my friend now.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Stop thinking you do, it’s annoying.”

“And yet yuh here, and wearin’ that. You really gotta stop sayin’ one thing and doin’ another. At least be consistent. ‘Annoying’, huh.”

She saw his hands clench into fists. He’d removed his gloves, revealing silvery hands uncluttered by a Hammond logo. The sleeve of his shirt didn’t quite reach his wrist, and its shortness became apparent whenever he bent his arm. The rest of it looked good, though. The bot was weirdly shaped, but not uncanny, and with the suit on you might almost forget the inhuman gaps in his joints. They added volume in a way that made him look rather human-shaped.

“You’re staring.”

“Yuh sleeves are short. That wouldn’t a happened if yuh gone in person like I said.”

He adjusted them himself, pulling them down by one of the triangular cufflinks past where they rested naturally, as though in denial. “It’s fine.”

“Looks good on yuh.”

He sighed, like the compliment stressed him, and stared off into the city. 

_Not even a thank you?_ She thought. Neither for the compliment nor the trouble of getting the suit done. It bothered her, still.

“You were good up there,” he blurted instead.

“Hm,” she blushed. “Yuh gettin’ better at compliments. Maybe one day yuh’ll even learn to take one.” With that she offered him the violin and its bow. “Now why don’t yuh show me what _you_ got.”

He didn’t take it at first. He stared at her, he hesitated, as though grappling with the idea. He made even the little things so much more difficult than they needed to be. But in the end, he got his hands on both components of the instrument and positioned them expertly, metal chin against the chin rest, fingers up against the neck, already selecting a chord. 

All his movements were slow, uncertain, up until he rested the bow against the strings and finally started to play. What came from the instrument was a simple serenade, a tune Lifeline had never heard before. In all likelihood the song hadn’t been popular for a few centuries. As Lifeline swayed her head, lost in the melody, admiring his archaic manner of dress, it occurred to her how the Sim might very well be offering her a glimpse of the past. He was a living time capsule whose secrets were available only to the luckiest and most persistent of people.

The song faded out. Revenant was pleased with himself that he hadn’t hit a single sour note.

Lifeline clapped her hands. “Never woulda guessed yuh got that kinda talent.”

“It’s kids stuff, something they make novices practice. It’s nothing special,” he said, speaking as though it were a recent and up-to-date fact. He hurriedly handed it back to her, eager to get rid of it.

“Aw don’t put yuhself down. Sounds like the standards back then were a lot higher than they are now, ‘cause that didn’t sound ‘novice’-like to me,” she laughed, putting the violin back in its case and latching it shut. She really should get it back before J.D. had a panic attack.

She stood up to go. As bad as she felt leaving him, she should get back to everyone else.

“Wait,” he said.

She stopped, expecting him to say something, but he seemed to be struggling to get words out, as usual.

“Nevermind.”

She smirked. “If yuh don’t want me to leave then come wit me, yeah? The party’s still goin’ downstairs. The music ain’t live but it’s enough to dance to.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What excuse do yuh got now? Yuh don’t stand out anymore,” it was a half truth. He stood out for his height, but he wasn’t noticeably inhuman at least.

Revenant’s hands were fidgeting on his lap, picking at one another. Lifeline had to admit it was fun watching him go from callous to nervous over the past few days.

“Come on,” she offered him a hand to help him up, which was probably a stupid gesture considering how he likely outweighed her by a factor of ten.

He didn’t take her hand, but he did stand up. His posture was hunched, his head bowed to stare at the floor. Was he trying to make himself look shorter? Or maybe just letting his hood hide his mask-like face?

He stood, but didn’t move, hands twitching at his sides as he stared at the floor, unsure what to do next. He needed some encouragement, clearly. 

Lifeline put down the violin and reached up to grab his tie, slipping it out from its neat, meticulous tuck and pulling it, and him, forward.

That finally got him to stop staring at the ground, he was looking at her now, and she couldn’t tell if he was flustered or furious. He quickly snatched his tie back and snarled.

“Don’t do that,” he muttered, hurriedly tucking it back into his vest. He adjusted it far longer than necessary, and seemed annoyed he didn’t have a mirror to inspect his handiwork. “Especially not down there.”

“That mean you’re comin’?”

“I can tell I’m going to regret this.”

“Oh, yuh have those?”

“Smartass.”

Once back in the dance hall, he assumed that same slouched posture. He pulled his hood forward as much as he could, constantly adjusting it. He tried staying at the edges of the room, out of the crowd, but Lifeline wasn’t having it. 

She grabbed his wrist and dragged him out onto the dance floor. He could have resisted harder if he wanted, but let her force him anyway.

The music was slow. Revenant sorely wished it were at least something faster and more upbeat. But it wasn’t, and nothing was stopping Lifeline as she put a hand on his shoulder and took his in hers.

“People will stare. They’ll judge you."

“Yuh worry too much, old man.”

She had always liked the process of taking an introverted person and watching them open up. And if her normal friends had been introverts, then this one was an introvert on steroids, with some murderous instability thrown in.

But he didn’t seem as unstable as everyone thought. He was in control. He didn’t harm his teammates, and didn’t seem keen on just going after anyone randomly. She wondered exactly how much of him was bluff. Joining the Games even seemed like a strange option for someone supposedly out of control. It wasn’t the only place in the Outlands one could kill and get away with it, but it was one of the only places it was actively encouraged. 

Then again, what did she know? She only knew him from his actions toward her.

In any case, if she could calm him down, she felt like she was doing a service to everyone. If he couldn’t die, he could at least go through life with a smaller body count, and maybe this would help him do that. It might even help save her friends in the Ring.

But then maybe all these things were reasons she made up to justify her actions. She hadn’t been lying when she told him he looked damn good in that suit.

She realized she was leading the dance. He was awkwardly refusing to put his hand on her waist and so it merely dangled freely as he moved his feet in tune with hers. His footwork wasn’t clumsy, and she was convinced he would be good at this if he let himself try.

But it didn’t seem like he would get the chance tonight. As the song started to dwindle, the pair could hear a commotion.

“Hey, hey what are you doing? Put that down!”

Revenant swayed sideways with the loud, shattering impact of a wine glass against his head. It wasn’t empty either.

It took him a moment to grasp what had happened as he let go of Lifeline, wiped the wine from his face and chuckled, “I probably deserved that, but which one of you morons is the one with the death wish?”

“That’d be me,” a sultry, feminine voice replied. A tall, tan woman in radiant brown braids tipped in orange walked toward the pair as the Sim pushed his dance partner away, sensing the threat.

The voice didn’t sound familiar, at first. The face to it, on the other hand, immediately lit up memories in his head, though the last time he had seen it, it was far younger.

“You all disgust me, letting that thing walk around in here.”

The woman wore tall heels and a fine white dress. If he hadn’t had context, Revenant would have taken her for some run-of-the-mill philanthropist, here to get her ass kissed by potential beneficiaries.

“Who’s this chica?”

“The name’s Loba, darling, didn’t you hear? I’m one of you now.”

“Ahh, it’s the new girl, finally!” Gibraltar was the first to welcome her, naturally. “Welcome to the club, bruddah!”

“You seem nice, maybe I’ll spare you when we’re in the Ring.”

“Woohoo, tough talk from a newbie, I like her.”

But Loba wasn’t interested in anything Gibraltar had to say, she was fixated on the Sim, who seemed frozen in place with her there.

She approached him, the look of disgust on her face only intensifying as she picked her long fingernails on the hem of his shirt. 

“How cute, someone dressed you up so you could pretend like you’re people.”

Lifeline, as usual, was the first to jump to his defense, putting herself between them.

“What’s yuh problem new girl? Have somethin’ against Sims?”

“Sims? No, nothing against their type, just this one. Killed both my parents in cold blood right in front of me when I was nine years old, or did he never tell you what he did before the Games?”

“Yeesh, that’s a downer, sorry chica.”

“That true bruddah?”

All eyes trained on him, even the medic’s. There was no point in lying. He had never really gone out of his way to hide his nature. “Why wouldn’t it be?” he shrugged. “Why do you all look so shocked? What exactly do you think assassins do? Hand out candy? Maybe you should ask her what kind of business her parents were wrapped up in.”

Nobody really knew how to react, and there was dead, awkward silence.

“You really know how to kill a party, little girl,” he replied.

“Really? I think I’ve livened things up, if anything,” she said, eyeing the medic with an unabashed sneer. “You want to tell your girlfriend over there about all the people you’ve killed? Tortured? About the man you cut up into pieces and mailed to his children? How many others like me have you made?”

“You’ve really done your research, huh,” he cackled. 

“Wouldn’t be worth my salt if I didn’t, demonio,” she said, reaching for the gun at her side. His instincts flared as he crouched to dodge a shot that rang loud as it hit the floor behind him.

He laughed low, hand fastening into a blade as he took a swipe at her. But the stranger was surprisingly agile, even in six-inch heels and a dress. He came at her harder now, both hands out.

“How about I finish the job? Then you can say hi to mommy and daddy for me.”

“There it is, show your true colors to these fine folks, _Demon,”_ a loud BANG rang through the room as she fired a round straight into his chest. Of course, it wasn’t enough to take him down.

“Aw, now that wasn’t very nice. This suit was expensive.” 

The scuffle didn’t last long before the others intervened. Gibraltar folded his arms and stood in front of Revenant, blocking him as he tried to get around him and rush at his target again. Lifeline and Octane in turn blocked Loba, and between the three of them, the fight was ended.

“Yuh a selfish one,” Lifeline quipped, thoroughly annoyed at how the evening had changed.

“Oh, and how do you figure?” Loba snarked right back.

“He might be a monster to yuh but he wasn’t hurtin’ no one, now yuh makin’ a scene with all these people around. You wanna fight? Save it for the Ring, that’s why yuh here, ain’t it?”

“I really don’t care for your judgement, little one, especially not with your taste in dance partners.”

She took the insult in stride, shoulders raised and fists up, prepared to fight if she tried to take this further. But the new Legend, seeing the others throw themselves between her and her target, thought better of it. She hadn’t come to kill any real people.

“I’ll see you in the Ring, Demon, and when I do, I want you to remember this face.”

“Oh, I will.”


End file.
